A pixie's broken wings
by ellina HOPE
Summary: Summer has a secret, and it's tearing her up inside. (Edited and Revised and Complete)
1. Summer, The Unshakeable

A Pixie's Broken Wings

ellina HOPE

I don't own School of Rock.

oOo

School didn't matter much. Who thought about grades anyway? Certainly not Summer Hathaway, that was for sure. Not since that day, that day when she stayed after to talk to that teacher, not since that day that she kept telling herself didn't happen. She fidgeted, smoothing her skirt and pulling it down. Pulling it down to cover the bruises that remained on her legs.

Ever since that day, that day that didn't happen, her grades slipped, her concentration dropped, eating wasn't important, and who had ever heard of sleep? If it weren't for the band, she might've stopped believing herself when she said that day never happened. If it weren't for the band, she might've stopped listening to her brain when it said to breathe. But, she figured that eventually her brain had to give up. She was stubborn, stubborn in her beliefs and in her ability to ignore anything she didn't want to hear.

'It never happened. It never happened. It never happened.' Summer chanted this to herself as she stared at the clock. In the back of the class, Freddy drummed on his desk with pencils. 'It never happened. It never happened.'

The teacher drew formulas on the board, the chalk squeaking as the numbers were written. Out of the corner of her eye, Summer watched Lawrence twitching at every shrill note. Marta was humming as she doodled in her notebook. If she turned around just so, Summer could read the name of some boy in another grade.

The tapping of her pencil didn't steady her nerves, just set the whole classroom atmosphere on edge. 'It never happened. It never happened. It. Never. Happened.' She didn't believe herself anymore. Not at night, not when the dreams came, and with the dreams came all the hurt and all the bruises and all the touching. Summer broke out into a sweat, just thinking about it.

With the thoughts came the smells and the feelings and the noises. The hands that were everywhere at once, holding her down with fingernails that dug into her skin. The voice that hissed in her ear, "pretty little girl. Pretty smart little girl. Do you like being teacher's pet now?" Summer clenched her eyes shut, biting down hard on her thumb knuckle.

"May I go to the bathroom, please?" The teacher nodded, not even pausing in her lecture, and Summer ran out of the room. Those put in charge of education whapped those not paying attention on the side of the head with rulers. Those put in charge of education blatantly ignored those suffering in silence in their classrooms.

In the safe confines of the female's bathroom, she locked herself in a stall. Pushing her hands against the cool plastic, Summer cried. "Who would've thought, Summer Hathaway crying?" In the short span of a few days, the bright, smart young lady turned into a bitter cynic.

She didn't want to face the rest of the day. She didn't want to face her friends' and their happy faces and their cheerful habits. There were a lot of things that she could not bring herself to stare at dead on. So, what she did was slide to the floor, tuck her knees under her chin and sit there. It was last period anyway. Katie would come find her when it was time for band practice.

Sure enough, when the bell rang, the bassist peeked into the bathroom. "Summer?" Hurriedly, the girl wiped her cheeks, scrubbing them on her uniform sleeve. "Are you in here?"

"Yeah. I'll be out in a second. Did you get my back pack?"

"Uh huh, Marta has it. We're all waiting for you. Mr. Dewey has the van parked outside." Sniffing softly, the girl named for the third season unlocked the stall. She splashed her face with cold water. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Katie, I'm fine. Let's go practice, okay? Dewey did say something about a gig, didn't he?" Distress disappeared as a fake smile melted on to her face. Summer didn't scratch at the wax covering, though it irritated her. This one little smile (however much it hurt) was her salvation and key to keeping things secret. Katie smiled; grabbed Summer's hand and they ran to catch up.

oOo

Summer sat on Dewey's couch, watching her friends cultivating the talent known as "melting faces." She played with the fringe on the scarf her mother knit her for Christmas last year. Had it just been last year? Surely it was older than that. Perhaps she was the one who felt old. Old and used.

She bent her head, keeping her mouth shut to hide the whimper. She was making all these distressed noises as of late. Perhaps it was time to take a note out of her mother's book and begin sewing. She knew just what she'd work on first, she thought as she ran her fingers over her chapped lips. She'd practice on sewing her mouth shut.

"Okay, guys, that's good for today. Zack, you're getting a lot better at that solo." The guitarist smiled as he put up his instrument. "Same time tomorrow, alright?" Alicia and Marta had already left, Tomika wasn't far behind. Zack, Lawrence, and Freddy joked as they walked out of the practice room. Being alone in a room with a guy made Summer shiver. She bit her lip, fighting all instincts to run. She flexed her fingers, clenching and unclenching her hands to fists and back again.

It didn't seem fair that it only took a little bit of brainpower to fix something like that. A small component of the machine still worked while the rest of it was surrounded by yellow caution tape. She hated the color yellow. Summer raised her gaze from the floor and took one deep breath.

'It's okay. It's just Dewey. He was your sub in elementary school. He's your friend. He wouldn't hurt you.' Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. Dewey looked up from his music to the resident band manager.

"Hey, Summer, what's up?"

"There's... something I need to tell you..." This immediately got his attention. Summer Hathaway was never nervous. Stuttering was one of the few words not included in her vocabulary. The rest were mainly words comprised of four-letters, which could easily be replaced by asterisks.

"What's the matter, girl?" The concern in his voice almost made her smile. There weren't many things that could do that nowadays.

"Last week..." She paused, it was harder than she thought. She stopped, took a deep breath, and started again. "Last week, I was..." He looked at her, brown eyes curious and worried. Dewey Finn, self-proclaimed rock genius was worried, all because of what one of his children was going to say.

"I was raped."


	2. It's out

Her words hung in the air, and Dewey's papers fell to the floor. Summer took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She wanted to take it back. The look of utter horror and confusion on Dewey's face made her want to take it back. Just a joke, you know. I didn't mean it. Yes, very mean and very nasty. Just a ...joke...Oh God. It was out; her nasty, dirty secret was out. That was all Summer could think about. She had finally admitted to it, and said it aloud.

I

Was

Raped

These three short, little words could possibly be the scariest words in the world, especially to Dewey Finn. Sure, he had heard about it happening, had read about it in the paper, and saw it on the news. But, for some reason, it meant something more to him now. One of his band members, nay... children had been hurt in an unforgivable way.

"Summer..." she blinked away tears, staring at the floor. "Summer, does anyone else know?" Silently, dumbly, she shook her head. Dewey sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. He'd never had experience with this. Busted guitar string? Sure. Tuning issues? Definitely. Getting a bunch of stuck-up concert yuppies to book a band comprised of little kids? Got it done. Emotional breakdowns? Not exactly.

"I'm sorry." Summer look at the ground, expecting something. She wanted to be punished. She needed to be hurt. I've done something wrong, she realized, I've made Dewey sad.

"For what?" Neither had an answer for this, and Summer kicked at the ground with a toe. It killed him to see one of his kids so out of it. Dewey wanted Summer to do something. He wanted her to yell, and scream, and be angry. "You have nothing to be sorry for." Summer, however, did none of these things. She stared blankly out the window, not reacting in the worst way. "Summer, girl, I'm gonna have to tell your parents."

"No!" Fear overtook her brown eyes, and she shook her head. "No, no, no. Don't tell them! Please, Dewey! Don't tell them."

"But, they deserve to know." Wiping her nose on her hand, Summer shook her head again. Her eyes were bright, feverish bright, and her cheeks were stained a blotchy red. "Okay, I won't tell them." She looked relived. It was short lived, as he picked up his keys.

"What are you doing?" Dewey paused, showing her what he had in his hands. Her reaction was not what he had hoped for. She had an almost desperate fear in her eyes, and she made a dash towards the door.

"I'm going to take you home, Summer. I don't want you walking around the city." Rapidly, the dark-haired girl shook her head.

"Oh, I can call my mother. Don't worry; I don't want to bother you." Already, she had her cell phone out and was dialing the numbers. "Hey, mom?" Her mother said something on the other line, and Summer nervously played with her hair. "Uh, yeah, practice ran a bit longer. Okay... I'll see you in five minutes." With a nervous glance around the apartment-turned-studio, Summer jerked on the door knob, and fled into the hallway.

Dewey could hear her staccato footsteps as she ran down the corridor and thundered down the stairs. "No girl should ever have to feel that way, ever."

oOo

After Summer left (fled, was more like it) Dewey had sat down on his bed, put his head in his hands, and mourned. Summer Hathaway was one of the least deserving girls for this to happen to. She always paid attention, she always did her homework, she never cheated on tests... she was without a doubt, the best student in her class. Dewey could still remember what she had said, on his first day at that memorable elementary school.

"...First off, let me welcome you to Horace Green..."

God, when did people get so messed up that they went around raping little girls? Damn it! Summer was only in middle school! Dewey ran a hand through his messy hair. Everything was messy now. But, Jesus, how would her parents react? How would the band react?

It didn't make sense, why would someone want to hurt Summer? If it weren't for the band, she would've been involved with student politics, and tutoring and millions of after school programs. If it weren't for the band, Summer Hathaway could've done anything she wanted in her life.

As he had so previously stated, Summer was going to be the very first woman president, she could run later this year even, and Dewey would vote for her. Hell, he'd probably do the rock and roll thing and somehow get a bunch of fourteen year old kids (IE: the band mates) into the voting booths to swing the polls her way.

An eerie silence fell over the apartment, like dust on a child's broken toy.


	3. The Band

The next day was Wednesday. With every new day come a few unavoidable inevitabilities. The first one is that Freddy Jones doesn't have his homework, the second is band practice. As a professional rocker, Dewey Finn always looked forward to the latter. Unfortunately, this was not the case. There wasn't much he could look forward to anymore.

He watched his kids fiddle with the fine-tune adjustments of their instruments. Zack twisted the knobs on his guitar, trying to get the strings to cooperate; Freddy leisurely twirled a drumstick in one hand and flicked at a cymbal with the other. Alicia, Marta, and Tomika worked out some choreography, while Lawrence did some warm ups on keyboard. Katie sat cross-legged on the floor with her back against the couch and bass resting in her lap.

All in all, everything looked normal. Everything looked as if there wasn't anything wrong in the world. The almost familial scene is his apartment looked ignorant to the fact that one of the key players was gone.

Summer had skipped practice, on his command. She didn't really need convincing anyway, and at her request, the band was to be informed of her condition. Condition. Like it was a sickness that she could recover from. Like it wasn't something that would change her forever. Like it wasn't something that hadn't already affected her. Dewey was reluctant to comply with her simple requirement, but found himself getting the attention of each and every member.

"Hang on, there's something you guys need to hear." Expectant faces turned towards him, eager and open. "As you've noticed, Tinker Bell isn't here today." Someone snickered at the nick name, and Dewey smiled a little himself. It was too bad that no amount of pixie dust could bring back Summer's broken trust.

"Where is she? Is she sick?" Katie sat up straight; Summer hadn't looked too good yesterday. She was positive that Summer had been crying. Damn positive. And, seeing as Katie didn't like math very much, being damn positive about something meant that she was sure of it. Magnifying glass and all, Katie had planned to delve deep into the mystery that was Summer's malcontent.

"Well, guys, something happened to Summer..." Dewey trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"What happened? Is she hurt?"

"Well, you guys... I'm sure you know what happens when..." He trailed off, unsure as to how to explain it. They were 14, it wasn't as if they were completely oblivious to what sex was. Judging by some of the notes he'd seen from sex ed., they also knew what rape was as well.

"Dewey, what's going on?" He looked over at Katie. Katie was Summer's best friend. They were practically sisters. She didn't deserve to be told that her sister had been raped. They all sensed his reluctance to speak and a cloud of uneasiness rained on them.

"C'mon, Finn, out with it!" Even Freddy's usual sarcastic command came out weak and unsure.

"Well... Summer was... She was raped...last week. And, I don't think that... I don't think she'll be back here with us for a little while."

He had a feeling there wasn't going to be any rocking out today, which was perfectly fine with him. The reaction wasn't immediate; it took awhile for the words to sink in. Nervously, Dewey watched the faces around the room. He observed carefully as chaos broke out.

Marta covered her mouth with her hand as she whimpered, "oh God..."

"Why her of all people?" Katie's eyes filled with tears as she repeated to herself, "why?"

"Please," Lawrence paled, looking like he was going to be sick, "not Summer."

"When I get a hold of the pervert who hurt her, he's dead!" Freddy looked close to throwing his drumsticks out the window.

Zack sat down on the couch with wide eyes. "Jesus. Please, no...please."

Tomika stared down at the floor in shock with a quiet, "it isn't fair..."

"Damn it! That scumbag's gonna pay!" Alicia yelled cusswords at the ceiling.

Dewey sat down next to Zack, and was joined by Katie. Her face was a pasty white; Zack put an arm around her shoulders. She sobbed wordlessly, and the guitarist looked pretty close to tears as well.

He looked over the crying girl's head, to Dewey, "what are we gonna do, man? What are we gonna do?" Dewey Finn had no answer, as the boy's words mirrored his own thoughts.

'What are we gonna do?'


	4. Marta

Marta.

oOo

Okay, so maybe Summer and I weren't the best of friends. Sure, we talked and hung out after band practice, but we were only "at-school friends" if you catch my drift. I think a few times Katie invited her to come to the mall with us, I didn't mind really. Summer was fun to shop with, even if she was obsessed with finding really cheap prices and staying in dress code. Then again, someone had to. I can admit it, I can get a little crazy on our freedom Fridays, when the boys upstairs let us wear something other than our uniforms.

Sometimes, at lunch, we'd try and get her to tell us who she liked. Being the studious girl she was, Summer would roll her eyes, put down her book (with her finger saving her place) and calmly lecture us about why boys were immature and why we should focus more on schoolwork.

Sometimes, despite her little Miss. I-study-all-the-time demeanor, I catch her staring at Freddy. They would be cute together, opposites and all. But, not anymore, right?

They say that, after being raped, you can't kiss boys and you can't ever have sex again without bad flashbacks. I don't want Summer to have to face that. She hasn't even had her first kiss yet. She hasn't even lost her virginity!

Rape doesn't count as a first time.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, it could've been any girl. Any girl in the whole wide world, but it was Summer. This was the girl who never let anyone copy her work, this was the girl who was never late to class without a note, this was the girl who'd rather die than miss a minute of school. And, now, she was the girl who got raped.

It feels so weird to say that.

Mr. Dewey wouldn't say anything about how it happened, or when it happened. He said it was up to her to tell us. Really? I don't think he honestly knows himself. We could all see how nervous he looked when he got up there. I remember how I was worried that he was going to tell us that we didn't get into that music festival. I feel kinda selfish now.

I wonder what Summer's doing. I hope she isn't hurting herself or locking herself in her room. You hear about people doing that all the time when they get raped. It's always on the news and stuff. I wonder if anyone will write stories about Summer.

If they do, will they mention her clean record, and straight-A grades? Will they mention that she could go anywhere and do anything in life? Will they mention her being the manager of a blooming rock band? No, probably not. They'll just give the facts, the straight facts.

She'd be a little blurb before the glorification of sunny Florida and snowy New York. "Summer Hathaway, age 14, was raped. Nothing has been released besides that. We'll keep you updated. Now, on to weather!" Supposedly, most rapes don't get reported. That's what they taught us in Sex. Ed. Or, sexual education, as Freddy called it. We laughed about it back then... I don't think anyone's laughing now.

It scares me. They tell us that most of the time, rapists don't only do it once. They get more than one person. If Summer was the first, who will be next? It could be Katie, or Tomika, or Alicia... or me. That's a hard thought to handle.

I could be the next one. God, now I feel really mean, and stupid. I know that what happened was really, really bad, but I can't help thinking: "Thank God it wasn't me." Does that make me selfish? Does it make me selfish that I'm glad it wasn't me? I'm not happy that Summer got raped, I'd rather no one get raped... but...

God, what's going to happen to us, to the band? If it wasn't for Summer, we never would've gotten into Battle of the Bands. If it wasn't for Summer, we never would've made it this far. When we were about to fall on our faces, Summer helped us. Summer, gold-star loving Summer, came up with a story that was better than any lie Freddy Jones could tell, and it worked. Now, how are we going to help her?

Is there really anything we can do?

Dewey said to give her time, and just back off about it. That's easy for him to say. I have almost every class with her; I do have every class with her! What am I supposed to say?

"Hi, Summer, I'm sorry you got raped. Here, I saved a seat for you."

I still can't get over it. It could've been any one of us. But, it had to happen to her. Someone just decided to screw up Summer Hathaway's life. God, someone most be really messed up to screw around with little girls. I almost think it's a good thing we don't know who did it.

That twisted pervert can rest easy, knowing that some poor little middle school girl can't sleep at night without horrible dreams. That twisted pervert had better pray that we never find out who he is and where he lives...

I can bet you, the very second we get a name; his house is going up in flames. If Freddy isn't the one holding the lighter, than I will be.

oOo


	5. Lawrence

Lawrence.

oOo

People always consider me to be the quiet one, the shy boy in the back who plays piano. Maybe it's true, I do my best not to be a bother or makes waves. I adapted the least to the rock and roll lifestyle. But, nothing makes me wanna hurt or break something more than my best friend getting raped.

I had a crush on Summer for the longest time, probably ever since elementary school. I think Katie knew, but I'm pretty sure she didn't say anything. Most dudes don't really go for girls like Summer, maybe because she was too smart and brainy, or stuck on school rules, but that kind of thing didn't bother me. Even after School of Rock hit it big, I dressed like a prep and tried to be polite.

Summer and I were alike in that respect; we liked being the prep school kids. We didn't want to dye our hair insane colors or be loud on the subway for the sake of disturbing peace. Not that there is much peace on a subway anyway.

I always was sort of an outsider, even among friends.

Even after School of Rock hit it big... if it hadn't been for my Summer, we wouldn't have made it very far at all. I don't remember if we thanked her. God, that was almost five years ago. I guess that's what happens when a girl you like gets hurt. You start thinking about all the things you didn't do for, but should've. I want to go visit her, I think we all do, but Mr. Finn said we should just leave her alone for a bit, and let things settle down.

I'm not even sure her parents know.

What are they going to say? What can you say when your daughter was ...hurt... like that. I can't even say it, it sickens me that much. Summer Hathaway didn't deserve to be raped by some pervert, when he gets away and she is left to burn. No girl does. Especially my girl.

I wonder what's going to happen when she comes back to practice. I bet no one's gonna tease her about how she got the highest grade in the class. I want to do something, I want to get angry and hit someone. Last time I got in fight, my parents lectured me about "being the better man" and then sent me upstairs with no dinner. My little sister snuck me some food anyway.

What about the jerk that hurt Summer? He wasn't being the better man, so why does he get away with it and not get sent to his room without dinner? Why does the girl who gets hurt have to suffer through nightmares and emotional breakdowns? If we knew who he was, he wouldn't have a room to be sent to or any legs to walk on.

Summer never needed anyone to protect her. She could always handle things on her own, that was one of the main reasons why I liked her so much. Even when we were little kids, she always stood up for herself and anyone else getting picked on. What's going to happen to her now? Her spark has been stolen, Tinker Bell has lost her wings. And now, there's some monster walking around on the streets, with her confidence.

He stole so much from her, and I don't think she'll ever be okay. It doesn't make sense. She was so distant yesterday; it was almost unbearable. The way she sat there, with a blank look in her eye...

I could tell I wasn't the only one who wanted to go over to her, grab her by the shoulders, and shake some Summer Hathaway charm back into her. Katie tried to talk to her, but Summer didn't do anything. I don't know, she just blinked and said that everything was fine.

Not everything is fine. Nothing is fine now! Nothing. When you hurt one member of the School of Rock, you get a load of trouble from the others, believe me. Even if Summer thinks she can handle this alone, I know she can't. We all know she can't. She's got to be the only person who thinks she'll be able to manage with this alone. But, sister, that isn't how we do things in our little family of rockers.

You can't go perform in front of millions of people and not come back without a little bit of courage. I just hope we have enough of it to help Summer come back.

She was always there for us when we had problems, always.

When Katie had her heart broken by some upperclassman jerk, or when Zack couldn't understand geometry, or when Tomika had tons of make-up work from a week of absence, or when Alicia was getting in fights after school, or when I was having trouble convincing my parents that I had to miss school for a concert... Summer was there for us. And, now, it's our turn to be there for her.

No part of the year should the sunniest season be clouded over by snow and bitter cold. That's not the way it works here. That's not the way it works at all.

oOo


	6. Katie

Katie.

oOo

Summer was one of my best friends. We used to be inseparable in elementary, Katie and Summer; you'd never see one without the other far behind. We spent vacations together, just hanging out and being. I remember the movie marathons, the ice cream breaks, the cooking adventures in my kitchen... I remember growing up with her.

I could always count on her for homework help, and she gave the best advice. We used to joke that she would be a perfect therapist or psychiatrist. She thought it was funny that the doctors were the crazy ones, giving advice to perfectly sane people.

I wonder what'll be like when she comes back. God, it sounds like she's been locked up or something. What am I supposed to say to her when I see her?

I want to say sorry, I want to say that maybe I should've been there, and it wouldn't have happened. I want to cry, and hug her, and get her to cry too. Summer looked so dead yesterday. There were big, dark shadows around her eyes, and she was so pale, and so quiet. It was like someone had put a giant upside-down glass jar on top of her, sealing her off from the rest of us. And it killed her. It turned Summer into Winter. Winter has always been my least favorite time of year. If it wasn't for Christmas, I'd boycott winter and hitchhike to Miami.

I asked her why she was so tired, and she shrugged. I wanted her to tell me that she had stayed up studying for a test. I wanted to joke that beauty sleep was more important than grades. I wanted her to laugh, and smile. All she said was that she was fine. I knew she was lying, but I didn't call her on it. I saw through her bluff, but I've never been that good of a card player anyway.

But, she wasn't fine, because of what happened.

Summer couldn't go to sleep, because she was raped. Things like this don't happen to girls like Summer. They happen to girls who are into drugs, and walk the streets, and come from abusive families. Summer was always careful: she never did anything wrong; she always turned work in on time; she was never late for dinner without calling...

What do you say to your friend when they've been hurt like that? What do you say to anyone who was hurt like that?

What do you say to your best friend in the whole, wide world, when they can't stop crying?

I don't think there's anything to say, really. Mr. Dewey said that rape affects people in different ways, and he said we need to give her time. I think he's just as lost as we are. He only just found out yesterday.

I don't want to give Summer time. I want her to be back to normal. I want her to tell us to stop goofing around and get to work. I want her to yell at us to snap out of it.

I remember how yesterday she bolted out of the room. The teacher didn't notice, she doesn't notice anything nowadays. Zack had looked kinda startled when she slammed the class room door, and Freddy missed a beat in his drumming. That hasn't happened in a long time, the missing a beat I mean. Zack is frighteningly easy to startle.

I remember how I was impatient, and mad at her for holding us up in practicing. God, I feel like such a bitch. I was so selfish! I was worried about getting home in time to watch something on T.V... I was worried about what some guy thought of me... I wasn't worried about my best friend who was having an emotional break down because some pervert forced her to have sex.

I feel so helpless! I feel like it was my fault. I feel like I should've been there. I feel like I should do something to help her. I want to do something. I want someone to be hurt, someone besides Summer. I want the world to stop spinning, and the sun to stop shining. It's too normal.

Things should be different. People should be acting different. How dare those little kids laugh? How dare those couples hug? How dare they be happy, when my best friend isn't? How dare someone rape a girl, barely a young woman, and get away with it?

Summer Hathaway loved getting praised for good work. She loved getting gold stars and having other people admire her. She was never cocky though. That was the great thing about her. She could help with both long division and geometric proofs, and she had no problem doing such. She loved learning, and getting smarter, and doing well in school. I don't think she cares anymore. That much was obvious when she skipped last period yesterday.

I want to give her all those gold stars back, and I want to see her sit straight up in her desk with a knowing smile on her face. I want the old Summer back. But, I don't think gold stars will help us any. Stars are, after all, only good for wishing on. And I gave up on wishing along time ago.


	7. Freddy

Freddy.

oOo

Summer was always a crazy chick. Me and her never got along well, you know? Dewey said we were way to opposite. Dude, lemme tell ya, aint it the truth. Whenever I was about to talk back to a teacher, she would throw her pencil at my head. Whatever they say about opposites attracting and all; it's bull.

But, I kinda liked her though, I mean, she was a cool girl. Summer did get us that audition, and we all owe her big for it. I feel like I owe her for a lot of things. I don't really like that feeling, so maybe that's why I tease her about so much random shit that doesn't matter.

When Finn was posing as the teacher, and he tore up the chart, Summer freaked. You could see her twitching all the way in the back of the class. I made fun of her for it. I can still bring it up too. And she'll roll her eyes but endure the humor. She endures a lot, now that I think about it.

When she was all spacey yesterday, I was gonna joke that she got a bad score on a quiz or something. I was gonna try and get her to smile or hit me. Summer's fun to mess around with, when she isn't all about grades or school, which she's not. The late night band practices (before a major gig) are when she gets going. Man, can that girl tell stories. She's the one thing that keep me awake at midnight after about three hours of hard drumming.

That's kinda how it is in our band. We've all got roles that we gotta fall into. Lawrence is the quiet keyboardist, Katie is posh spice, I'm Spazzy McGee, and Summer is Tinker Bell. She's the reliable band manager than can fix anything and everything.

After Dewey told us the truth about what happened, that she had been raped, I was kinda glad that I hadn't poked fun at her. I mean, when something that bad happens, you don't want stupid dudes making fun of you. I can't believe Summer was raped. I can't believe I called myself stupid. I can't believe a lot of things right now.

So much stuff has changed, after what we were told. Katie broke down, Zack freaked, and Alicia cussed out the light fixtures. I really wanted to break something. Something had to be broken to fix Summer.

That's the way it works, right? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, right? I remember we learned last year that some governments were based on that idea. Someone else said "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." I can kinda see that now. That doesn't change the fact that I want to beat the pervert's head in, mind you. I'm much too stubborn to be swayed by some old guy preaching about eyes and blindness. Who cares? I've got perfect vision!

I wanna beat the crap outta the bastard who did it. Alicia said it was a good thing we didn't know who he was, because we'd kill him. If you think 8th graders are wimps, just wait until we jump you, then we'll see whose crying. It'll probably be your mama, after she sees what we've done to your dead body.

Seriously, no chick deserves to be raped. You can tell that sort of thing just shuts everyone up. Even when 'rents talk about it, they always speak in whispered voices, like it'll dirty our virgin ears. Virginity. That's another one that freaks people out. We learned last year in sexual education that only you can give away your virginity and even if you get forced, you're still a virgin.

I don't think Summer would believe that.

Once, Katie read this book about this girl who got raped, and Katie had to tell the other girls about it. I remember how they talked about it and what they would if they got hurt like that. I remember saying that none of them would get raped, 'cause perverts know better than to mess with the School of Rock. We're tough bitches, man! I was wrong.

Damn, I hate being wrong.

Finn said that there was nothing that we could really do, and to let things be. Someone mentioned a card or something, but that seemed kinda weird. What would we write, anyway?

"Get well soon, we miss you."

Right, rape isn't something you can just get over. They say it lasts forever and it never fades. The memories never go away, that's what we learned in school. It's something that scars you for life. I don't want Summer to be scarred. She's much to pretty for that. And I don't mean pretty like her face or something. I mean pretty in the way that she's smart and she's willing to help people.

There are a few rules, in rock 'n roll... the number one is that we stick together, as a band and as a family. Summer Hathaway just happened to be the glue. Not just because she was the 'band manager', but because she was something else.

And, because of that, we will fight for her. You should know that by now. Band equals family. Family equals if one falls of their face, we all do.

oOo


	8. Alicia

Alicia.

oOo

Damn it.

God damn it. How could he? How... just, how? What kind of ass-bastard wants to hurt a little kid? What sick son of a bitch did this? Summer and I weren't really friends, she was too up-tight, to be honest, but it wasn't like we were enemies or anything. She was really cool in group-projects. And, she sorta ran the band, so you never wanna make waves with the manager. I mean, we could hang out in a group. And we could make small talk about "what to wear" and "what to eat" and "who to kill", but nothing major. No in-depth debates that I've seen Freddy and Zack get into.

Us School of Rockers are all pretty laid-back kids, you know? We practice, do our school work ('cept for Spazzy) and we rock out everyday. In this kind of business, you gotta expect the unexpected. Dewey always told us before an audition that things might not work out as we hoped. But, it was cool. If we got in, we'd have a party with soda and pizza and be little kids again. If we didn't get it, we'd still have a party with soda and pizza and we'd toast to the jackasses who didn't hire us. But, allow me to repeat myself, it was all cool.

Now, it aint so cool anymore. Like I said, you don't make waves with the manager, especially if you're not in the band. Even the roadies know that, and they don't even see Summer as much as we do. Out of nowhere, comes this perverted scum-ass bitch that thinks he can mess with our girl. Ah, hell no.

Well, he's in for it, lemme tell ya'. You just don't go around raping little kids, it doesn't go that way. You most definitely don't go around raping Summer Hathaway. Wanna know why? 'Cause she's got back-up. She's got loads of back-up. And, if she's scared of 'im, we sure as hell aren't. We're not afraid of getting into a little bit of trouble for arson or destruction of private property. We're rich kids, we got money! Shit, I'm sure as hell not afraid of the police.

"Ma'am, could you tell me what you're doing?"

"Sure officer, I'm kicking this pervert's ass to hell and back!"

"Any reason why?"

"Because he raped my friend, that's why!"

It kinda depresses me, though. Supposedly, we can buy anything. You always see it on T.V: "Daddy, buy me that expensive Italian sports car that would cost anyone else their house!" "Mummy, can we go shopping for real diamonds on Sunday, after we go to the social club?"

But, nothing can buy back Summer.

She was so out of it yesterday. She just sat there, staring all freaky, like that chick from The Ring. I don't want no Samara for a band manager. Shit, I don't even want a healed-over Summer with sticky Band-Aids, I want the old Summer. I want the Summer who never got raped; I want the Summer who wasn't afraid to tell us off for not practicing.

Summer was a brave girl. She had some balls, she did. When word got 'round that I was getting into fights (which I was) Summer made sure to stick close to me, so I didn't bust anymore heads. She glared at me when I told her off for doing so. Hathaway just shook her head, all disappointed. But she didn't tell the higher-ups. The important people. I don't know if I can return the favor and keep this secret from people.

People like her parents, who deserve to know.

My mom and I are tight, real close. I can tell her almost everything, but... Would I be able to tell her if I got raped? Would I be able to look in my mama's pretty brown eyes and tell her that her youngest daughter was forced into having sex? I don't think so.

I can kinda see why Summer didn't tell us straight out herself, and left it to Finn. I'd be scared too. I'd be scared shitless to tell the dudes I grew up with that I was raped. That's a nasty word. Rape. It hurts to say it, if you say it out loud.

It's kinda funny, how some words mean more to you, and hurt more, after you really understand them. Rape and abuse and murder... they're just words, until you really get into it. Once you look them up in the dictionary, and once you hear about it happening in the real world...

They're not just words anymore.

God, things got so weird so fast. Katie broke down, and that got Tomika going too, and then... God, no one touched their guitar or drums or anything that day. Everyone just sat there, crying or thinking or not-thinking. I wanted to explode. Cursing the ceiling wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to scream. It didn't bring the walls down, it didn't bring the traffic to a stop. It's too normal for what happened. Our family is shattering while the Earth keeps spinning and smiling. Something has to be broken.

Someone has to hurt... someone has to hurt like Summer... Or else, nothing can be right in this world. Nothing can ever be right in this fucking world.

oOo


	9. Zack

Zack.

oOo

Wow.

Just... God, we shouldn't have to hear about this sort of thing happening. No matter how much we say we're "grown up" we're still just little kids. We're the same little kids who chased after ice cream trucks until we fell and scraped our knees. We're little kids who can still get hurt. Little kids shouldn't have to deal with their friend being raped.

Katie totally broke down. She and Summer were really tight, like sisters. They had a joint-childhood, with all these crazy memories. I've heard the stories. They're crazy. But, it could've happened to any of the girls in the band. Damn, it could've happened to a guy. That's a scary thought... Rape in general is scary. I don't get it. Why would someone do that?

I'm a laid back type of guy. I go with the flow; you have to do with a dad like mine. He likes things a certain way, and you do them. I'd like to think that I can agree with a lot of different people, and that they can agree with me. I try to make myself appealing to all audiences. Not like that, gross. I just don't want to offend anyone. Now, it's changed. I mean, Summer always was strong. She was the back bone of School of Rock. She's broken... and I can't agree with that happening. How can we stand without a spine?

As Dewey said, we're all busy rocking out and it's up to Summer to keep us in check. Now, she has to have us keep her in check. That doesn't seem right. It's all opposite! We've all gone down the rabbit hole as a collective Alice.

...That was Summer's favorite kid story... Alice in Wonderland... She always wanted a white rabbit when she was little. She and Katie, they kept trying to find someway to get to Wonderland. Now that I think about it, I made fun of her for that. I kinda want to say sorry, as if it'll help any. Maybe we should all pitch in and buy her a white bunny. A small one though, so it won't take up a lot of room. Or, so that we can get it a nice big cage to hop around in.

Is that what happens when your friend gets hurt? You start thinking of all the things you did wrong and all the things you can try to do to fix them? Maybe, if I hadn't laughed at her for chasing after bunnies, she would be okay.

Maybe, just maybe, if I had been nicer, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe if I hadn't let Freddy tug on her pigtails when we were in elementary school and maybe if I had paid attention when she did a study group for history and maybe if we had appreciated what she was doing for us, this wouldn't have happened.

Mother calls that wishful thinking. We're not allowed to tell our parents about what happened to Summer, because she doesn't want her folks to know. Dewey told us we had to keep everything real hush-hush, on the down low. I can understand. I so wouldn't want my folks to know if I got ...into that sort of thing... Now it sounds like Summer's doing drugs or something. I feel so... something... something not right, not nice!

We should've been more attentive to Summer. We should've noticed something was wrong. We should've been able to help her! What kind of "Rock 'N Roll Family" are we? I've always wanted to be a big brother. I'd be the kind who drives their little brother or sister around to get treats and I'd be the kind of big brother who spoiled him or her. A big brother watches over his sister and keeps her out of trouble, not ignores her while she's been raped. I guess I failed then.

Just how many times have I blown her off? How many times was I too busy to just stop and ask her how she was? God! I feel like a bastard. I feel like it was my fault she was raped.

We learned in good ol' sexual education that a rape victim blames themselves for it. Is Summer a rape victim now? She was raped, but is she a victim? I don't want to believe that. No way is Summer Hathaway a victim. She was never afraid of anything or anyone.

Not even my dad.

She stood up for me, did you know that? She told my father to lay off (not in those exact terms) when he started getting a little strict about the band. I gotta return the favor, you know? We need to find this guy, and kill him. We have to kill him, to reverse Summer. That's the way it works, right? I'm armed with a shield and sword, let me at the jerk, so I can kill him.

Kill the evil dude, and the spell wears off.

Only, this isn't a spell. This isn't some stupid RPG, Zacky boy. You're not an elf that can save everyone. You're just a pale guitarist who failed before he even had the chance to be a good brother. I want there to be a way to fix it. Go back in time, something! ...Anything...

I'm not used to begging, or pleading, but I'll do it. If it gets Summer back, I'll do it.


	10. Tomika

Tomika.

oOo

Summer was the type girl who had a presence. She's the kind of chick who the teachers talk about during their little staff plot time meetings. All the teachers knew her face, even the ones she didn't have, and the principals said hello to her in the morning. I might not have showed it then, but I really respected Summer Hathaway, I still do.

To be honest, I was also kinda jealous of Summer. She was smart, polite, pretty and she never took crap from anyone. There was a group of guys terrorizing someone (maybe Marta... or Katie?) and Summer walked right up to them with her hands on her hips. Is something wrong? She had asked. They had said something back and then Summer glared at them. I think those boys just ran away.

She was nice to everyone who deserved it too, even Billy. Unless you out-right insulted someone or something without reason, you were Summer's friend. She had a lot of friends and always knew a little something about them. Even if you felt you were the loneliest sap when your birthday came around, she's find something to give you. She took things in stride too, with an unshakeable smile. Patience was her middle name. I can still remember her walking me through some kind of math... Any teacher would be proud to have her in their class.

For some reason, I don't think she really cares about that anymore. I don't think Summer cares if she's polite, or nice, or if she gets good grades. I don't think she cares about anything now. At band practice, she looked about ready to pass out. Raccoon eyes, was what someone had said at school. Zack was about to hit them, but whoever had said it was gone.

That's how it is in our band. Everything is everybody's business. Deal with it.

We always stick together, like glue. Zack had a detention once, and Larry managed to get him out of it. Freddy didn't do his homework (again) and Marta let him copy it. Things get rocky, but we roll with it. But, this has to be the rockiest of rocks... but we're not rolling this time.

This time, we're gonna pick up our guitars and drum sticks and we're gonna beat the heck out of the jerk who hurt Summer. No, jerk is to kind of a word to describe him. Alicia came up with some pretty nice names for him. Most of which are too foul to ever be repeated.

There are many bad words in the language of humans, and I don't just mean cuss words. Some words can make anyone stop, turn around, and listen for a bit. Dangerous words. Most of them are racist or sexist or plain insulting too.

But, words like drugs, violence, sex, alcohol, and rape, those are the ones that make you pause and lower your voice. Those are the ones that make you stop on the phone, and look around to make sure your parents aren't within hearing distance.

Parents.

How would your parents react if you told them something like that?

"Hi Mom. No, school was fine. I was raped, by the way. Maybe we should stop at the hospital after dinner?"

Hospital. Summer needs to get checked out. That's what you do, right? Go to the doctor. Find out if you're pregnant. Oh God. What if she is? What'll we do? What can we do? Nothing. That's what Dewey said. He said there's not much more you can do than sit back, hope for the best, and eventually offer comfort.

Katie mentioned buying her flowers. Make her a card or something. Still, what can you put on it? Yesterday, we lost it. Nothing more to say than that. Freddy made a big show of kicking Dewey's couch. He didn't stop him though. Freddy gave up after a while; he was crying.

I don't think I can sing anymore. Zack said he tried to play guitar, but couldn't do anything. Lawrence said the same thing about key board. We're falling apart. Without Summer, we're lost in a winter without sound. School's gonna be hell. She'll know that we know.

How long? We can't keep this quiet. Even if I can't sing, I still have a voice. I have a voice, and I plan to use it. I'm not afraid to stand up for my friends, no, FAMILY. I'm not afraid to scream, or make some noise.

Something happened to my sister, and I plan to do something about it. Because that's what you do. Understand?


	11. Dewey

Dewey.

oOo

My fingers hurt. I can't play guitar right now, so don't ask for a demonstration. I sent the kids home, telling them to try and calm down. Don't do anything rash, I said, try not to act out. Tell that to the random dishes I smashed on my kitchen tile. Linoleum, actually. The neighbors knocked on my door, asking if I was okay. I told them it was an accident with that cabinet or something.

...Or something.

Is that what happened to Summer? "Or something"? If someone had asked her where the bruises on her legs came from, would she say "I fell or something?" My brilliant Summer despised using that sentence. It is far too vague, she commanded me as I tried to explain a guitar solo to Zack.

It was more of a debate than an explanation. The boy and I were trying to figure out which chords to slam where. After I said "or something" for the tenth time (she counted.) Summer rolled up a paper napkin and chucked it at my head. Being vague was a pet peeve for her. There were lots of pet peeves for her, now that I think about it. She didn't like being late, she didn't like being ignored, she didn't like Freddy making an ass of himself and she didn't like pineapple on her pizza.

I don't like pineapple on my pizza either, so I can deal with that.

We were thinking of ordering some food last night, since it looked like it was gonna be a late one. Alicia suggested pineapple and ham pizza and we waited for a few seconds for Summer to start her argument. But, she didn't. Summer Hathaway sat still on my couch with straight perfect posture. I hate perfect posture. I had half the urge to go over there and push on her head until she slouched a little.

I am very happy that I did not push on her head. She probably would've attacked me. Not just because of recently discovered circumstances, but for other reasons as well. She never liked someone touching her hair and/or head. That was something Freddy Jones always took advantage of.

Now, the kids like to think that I don't know about all the little political schemes that they have, but I know things. I know, for instance, that Zack has a teensy bit of a crush on a certain bassist some of us know and others of us love. I'm also well aware that Freddy is smitten with Summer, even if they don't realize it. On the slow days, I entertain myself by cooking up ideas to hooking up my little drummer-manager love bird couple.

Most of them involved being trapped in a kitchen. Or locked in a cage full of snarling badger-demons. But I don't know where I would find a cage, so that one was always ruled out. Not that I didn't write down my thoughtful plan, with step by step instructions. I have those papers folded up and stashed under... well, under something.

But, I digress. Summer Hathaway is one of the coolest cats on the corner. She's also a puzzle. A puzzle that no one has found all the pieces for. I think she can surprise everyone, herself the most. During practice breaks, when Marta and Katie fawn over their fashion magazines and Zack and Freddy fawn over their skater magazines, Summer would sit quietly at my kitchen table with a soda can.

She just sat there, watching people. I think she envies them all, for having something she doesn't. They fit in with each other, because they had the burning urge to change. Summer, I think, was happy with what she was. And that is worth more than any rebellion. She knew who she was, and she knew what she wanted.

I have a feeling that isn't quite so true anymore. Summer's been hit hard. I've been through a lot and I know people who have been through a lot. Alcoholism, drug addiction, money problems... but never rape. My pre-School of Rock days were rape free. Sure, it was on the news and in the papers, but I never knew the names they mentioned. When I heard about those stories, I bowed my head a little and had a private moment of silence. Because rape is sad and it is scary.

I want to do more than bow my head. I want more than just a moment of silence. I don't want my Summer to go through something sad and scary. She doesn't deserve that. She deserves better, like a full college scholarship to Harvard and Yale. She deserves a loving husband and a stable life. She deserves more than just a rock band.

That's why I'm doing what she told me not to do. I'm picking up my phone and I'm dialing her number. Because her parents need to know about this. They deserve to know that their daughter went through something terrible and that she needs their help. She deserves their help.

Even so, I'm still nervous while the phone rings and rings and rings and someone picks up...

"Hello, Hathaway residence, this is Jane Hathaway."


	12. Aftermath

Aftermath

oOo

Summer Hathaway sat on her couch, staring at the TV. Her parents talked in the background. Tearstains were on her face and she sniffled occasionally. She clenched her small hands into fists and the relaxed her fingers to spread. Quickly though, she tensed and they curled up again. Just breathe, she told herself.

Just breathe. It's okay. They know. Mommy and Daddy know and they still love you. They still love you even though you're a horrible dirty slut. But, he lied. He said no one would want to see you. But, he lied. Mommy and Daddy and Dewey and Katie and Alicia and Marta and Zack and Tomika and Lawrence and Freddy love you.

They.

Love.

You.

Her eyes filled with salty tears again and they trailed down her cheeks like falling stars. She tried to muffle her whimpers, as to not distract her parents. They were making phone calls, desperate phone calls. To the hospital, to the school, to the police and to as many therapists as they could find. They were tracking down the sicko who touched their daughter. He'd be arrested before the day was through, or so the authorities said.

They had enough identification information to find him in minutes. At first, there had been some skepticism about how well Summer remembered the face of her attacker. Considering that she saw the man everyday for fifth period science, it was a pretty good guess that she knew him well enough. Since the rapist was a teacher, that made the search all the more speedy. That was a few hours ago.

Her cell phone had run a few times every hour as the band mates called in. They were careful, as if speaking any higher than a soft whisper would make her house explode. But, Summer had been grateful for the company. After each of them had called at least once, her doorbell had rung. Her mother moved first, flinging the door open. There stood Alicia, Tomika, Katie and Marta. And with them was a soft white bunny rabbit in a cage. A giant bow adorned the wire contraption.

Katie explained in a rushed voice that the bunny had been Zack's idea because of how Summer had loved Alice in Wonderland when she was younger. And, so, he and the boys went out and bought a rabbit for her. And the girls decided they needed to catch up and see how Summer was doing and maybe hang out for a few hours.

Her mother had nodded, but said to keep the festivities calm. How about watching a little TV, she suggested. The five females made themselves comfortable on the carpet with blankets and pillows. Summer laid sandwiched with Alicia and Katie on one side and Marta and Tomika on the other. As they were about to turn on a DVD (some random chick flick) the news came on.

"Special report... One Mr. Jeremy Madison, of Horace Green JR. High was arrested today on the charge of sexual harassment and rape. Further investigations will be conducted to turn these charges into concrete facts. Allegedly, Madison cornered one of his students after school and forced her to engage in sexual intercourse. That is all the information that we can disclose at this time, updates will be posted at both our website and we will have a full story later in the week..."

Summer Hathaway covered her mouth with one hand as she cried more tears. He was gone; he couldn't hurt her again. There was nothing to be scared of. She was safe. She was free. She was okay.

She was loved.

oOo

And, thus, it is over. I end this tale with a bow and all the love I have. May my reviewers and readers be blessed. And may those unfortunate enough to have to face what Summer Hathaway faced be blessed with courage and strength. My story is dedicated to all rape victims in the world.

It is not your fault, don't blame yourself.


End file.
